


Family & Holidays (Scroldie Week)

by thehousethatfloats



Series: Hearts of Gold [7]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Family, Gen, Holidays, Scroldie Week, and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehousethatfloats/pseuds/thehousethatfloats
Summary: A little one shot of holiday/family fluff and angst for Scroldie week, set in the Hearts of Gold universe a while after the events of The Last McDuck.





	Family & Holidays (Scroldie Week)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry

Dickie and Goldie arrived at McDuck Manor on Christmas Eve. Goldie had been hesitant about coming so early, it was a little too close to ‘normal’ for her liking, but Scrooge had pulled out his trump card and she’d stood no chance. 

‘When was the last time Dickie woke up on Christmas morning, surrounded by her family?’ Scrooge had asked, knowing exactly what he was doing, the sly bastard. ‘She’ll miss half the fun if you only get here at lunchtime.’ 

And so, as he knew she would, Goldie caved. Of course, the side benefit to this was that Scrooge got to wake up on Christmas morning with Goldie curled around him, mildly hungover from last night’s egg nog contest. He kissed her awake and she snuggled close to him, and their lazy lovemaking that morning was serenaded by a chorus of laughter and squeals of delight echoing from downstairs. 

 

Goldie hadn’t expected presents. From Scrooge, maybe, he was sentimental like that, and maybe something small from Della and Donald, but she hadn’t anticipated the kids would have a gift for her, all wrapped up under their enormous tree.

She unwrapped the golden grappling hook, with its remarkably unsubtle rope of blue, green, red and pink, and went very quiet. Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby piled on her in a candy fuelled group hug and she pretended to hate it as she tried not to cry. 

Lena handed Scrooge and Beakley matching wrapped parcels, uncharacteristically shyly. Each contained a family photo, that Webby had insisted taking months before, and Lena had complained about at the time. There they all were, their strange, complicated little family. Scrooge and Goldie, Dickie and Lena, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, Donald, Della, Launchpad and Mrs Beakley. Only Lena had photoshopped Goldie out of the one she gave Beakley, a fact which made both women laugh out loud. 

Everyone gave Dickie a present. She could barely move for paper when she was done. A new lens for her camera, paint brushes and art supplies, boxes of hair dye, a new patchwork waistcoat, comic books and candy galore. Her grin was wide and her arms ached from the hugs she couldn’t help but dole out. Goldie watched it all with a soft smile on her face, and Scrooge threaded his fingers through hers and held her close. 

 

As the morning went on, the kids few wilder still. All except Dickie. Once the rush of excitement had ebbed, her smile began to falter and she migrated to the sidelines while the younger kids played. Goldie noticed, of course, and when Dickie took a moment to slip out of the room, Goldie squeezed Scrooge’s arm and nodded in her direction, communicating silently before getting up to follow her.

She found her out in the hall, staring up at the framed painting of Scrooge, Donald and Della that hung in the place Goldie knew Dickie remembered another family portrait to be. 

‘Dickie? You okay?’ Goldie asked, coming up behind her. The girl jumped, and wiped at her eyes. Goldie’s heart clenched just a little. 

‘Oh sure Gigi, I’m fine.’ Dickie replied, her breezy tone sounding anything but. ‘I just got a little... emotional I guess. I never thought I’d see a holiday like this again, with family and everything. It’s just... almost too perfect. I mean I know it’s not... it’s different and that’s weird, but at the same time it’s sort of the same, you know?’ 

Goldie put her arm around her granddaughter.

‘Kiddo, if you’d told me a year ago that I’d be here in McDuck Manor on Christmas morning with you, and Scrooge and his ten thousand children, I’d have laughed you out of the room. I may not know exactly what you’re feeling right now, but the weird part? I’ve got that down.’

‘You know we don’t have to stay.’ Dickie said, immediately. ‘I don’t want you putting yourself through all this if it’s just for me. If it’s too weird for you we can go, we can just have a nice day, you and me.’ 

Goldie paused, weighing up the options. She didn’t believe Dickie wanted to leave, not really. She was having a wobble, and that was to be expected, but she was where she belonged, with her family at Christmas, and pretty soon her head would be turned again - but only if they stayed. 

‘Oh sweetheart,’ Goldie sighed. ‘As much as I might like to deny it, I want to be here as much as you do. Honestly? Don’t tell your Grandpa, but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.’ 

 

That afternoon, while Mrs Beakley prepared dinner and the other adults took a much needed break from the merriment, Goldie took Dickie and the kids abseiling down the side of the Money Bin. Della joined in while Donald stood at the bottom with his head in his hands, ready to break whatever child’s fall he needed to. 

Miraculously, they all survived, and Dickie waited until they made it home to tell Donald about the last time Goldie arranged such an activity. 

 

After eating their weight in Christmas dinner, and falling asleep in front of the TV while the credits of Christmas on Bear Mountain rolled, the kids all dragged themselves up to bed. 

Dickie woke around 2am, to the sounds of a ruckus from downstairs. Panic struck her at first, but then she recognised her grandmother’s wild laughter and crept out of bed to investigate. 

She arrived to find an absolute scene of chaos in the living room. 

Scrooge and Della were hunched over the coffee table, going  hard at a snap game. Goldie and Beakley were cheering them on, several empty bottles of champagne at their feet. 

Donald looked to be the only vaguely responsible adult present, and even he was swaying tipsily. 

‘DICKIEEEEE!’ Goldie cried, spotting her suddenly. ‘Get over here, you miraculous miracle child, you!’

Dickie laughed and shuffled over to where her exceptionally drunk grandmother sat, and found herself immediately pulled into a clumsy hug. 

‘Granddaughters are the greatest, eh Bentina? That’s what we were just saying. You’re the greatest. You and Webby, the  _greatest_ .’

‘Absolutely.’ Mrs Beakley nodded, sloshing her class of champagne over the carpet and paying it no mind. ‘Here’s to being Grandmothers!’ 

‘Grandmothers of wild, amazing granddaughters!’ Goldie cheered, and the two women clinked glasses. Dickie snorted with laughter and wished she had picked up her phone before coming downstairs. This was the kind of quality blackmail content she could use the whole year round. 

‘SNAP!’ Scrooge yelled suddenly, as Della groaned and dropped her head on the table in defeat. ‘HAHA!’

‘You didn’t play fair, Uncle Scrooge,’ Della complained. ‘Half the time you called snap when there weren’t even two cards there!’ 

‘Poppycock,’ Scrooge dismissed. ‘I see two cards, I get the points. And really it was two against one... because there are two of you right now! Look at that, all those years with no Della’s and now we’ve got two of ye!’ 

‘Okaaaaaaay, I think it’s time for bed, adults,’ Dickie laughed, reaching out to grab hold of Scrooge before he fell over. He looked mightily surprised to see her, and delighted too. ‘You’re all going to regret this so much in the morning, hangovers last forever when you’re old you know.’ 

‘The cheek!’ Scrooge sputtered, while Goldie collapsed into giggles at the sight of his indignation. Dickie managed to get her grandparents to their feet and Donald managed the same with his sister. Mrs Beakley waved them away from her spot on the sofa, declaring she would absolutely be fine and would go to bed any minute. Dickie had no doubt whatsoever that she would still be on that couch in the morning. 

She managed to get Scrooge and Goldie up the stairs safely, and thought it best to leave them to their own devices from there. After this much alcohol, and at this close proximity to a bedroom, Dickie knew better than to stay within hearing range. She kissed them both goodnight and wished them a Merry Christmas, and left them to it. 

 

Back in her bedroom, Dickie settled in her bed and reached under her pillow for her sketch book. 

She’d been working on her drawing, she was getting pretty good at it. Goldie had gotten her a tablet for Christmas, despite not knowing what the heck it was, and she couldn’t wait to start turning her scribbling sketches into digital art - she was taking a course next semester. 

Until then though, she contented herself with her sketch book. She sat in bed, illuminated by the bright full moon, and flipped through the pages. She’d gotten quite good at Scrooge, and Goldie of course was no hardship. But there was one face it had taken her a while to get right. It scared her at first, how much she found her mother’s face fading in her own memory, but she had finally gotten it right. She lingered on the drawing of Dawson McDuck, her feathery white blonde hair and her crinkle of her eyes, her multitude of beaded necklaces and the tiny dream catcher earrings she always wore. 

Dickie hadn’t shown her to her grandparents yet. She wanted to... but she’d wanted to get it exactly right first. Finally, she had. She would show them tomorrow, she thought to herself, and in a way, Dawson would then exist in this world too, if only in mind. 

Dickie ran her fingers along the line of her mother’s beak, to where it drew up in the corners with just a hint of a smile. 

‘Merry Christmas, Mom,’ Dickie murmured, smiling back. ‘I miss you. I miss you all, so much. But I need you to know that I’m okay. I’m with Grandpa and Gigi, and... I’m okay.’ 

Dickie laid back down in her bed, the drawing propped up against the wall so she could see it from her pillow. 

‘Goodnight Mommy,’ she whispered, as sleep claimed her at last. 


End file.
